


hands down (like you mean it)

by transit (dollyeo)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 23:50:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12046887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollyeo/pseuds/transit
Summary: 5 scenes from a life they could have lived. (Harry Potter/Hogwarts AU)





	hands down (like you mean it)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [serenitea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenitea/gifts).



> hi bb ♥ thank you so much for commissioning me! I've always been fond of soonyoung and minghao, and this was a treat to write. I went a little overboard with the word count but I couldn't resist asjkakfjadjk
> 
> I hope you enjoy! :)

1.

 

 

"Have you been waiting long?"

Minghao looks up, the tips of his ears and nose red and blistering. There's snow dotting the top of his beanie, his cheeks, and he's shaking like a leaf even under all the layers he has on; he's got a few good centimeters over Soonyoung, but the sight of it just makes something in Soonyoung clench with fondness.

"Not really," says Minghao, sounding like it doesn't bother him. But Soonyoung's seen Mingyu in the common room just before he'd ducked out, and Mingyu's told him Minghao's been waiting for him at Honeyduke's since noon. It's already a little past one, now, and even if they were _technically_ supposed to see each other at 1:30, it still makes Soonyoung feel guilty.

"It's fine," Minghao insists, flushing under Soonyoung's inspecting gaze. If there's a hint of petulance in there, Soonyoung doesn't mind it too much. They used to be at each other's throats when they were younger, full of feeling; older now, but there's affection tempered in it, grown with time and patience. Soonyoung just wants to kiss him, again and again.

He peels his glove off of his right hand, instead, and puts it on Minghao instead. "You're a shitty liar, you know," says Soonyoung, keeping his tone light as he fusses at Minghao's fingers, thumb stroking his knuckles for a second longer than necessary. "Your skin's turning blue."

"Buy me butter beer, then," says Minghao, mulishly. "That's the least you can do after making me wait."

"I thought you didn't wait for long," Soonyoung teases. Minghao tugs his beanie down lower to cover the red of his ears, and he starts to stalk off with a huff.

Undeterred, Soonyoung grabs onto his other hand, the one that doesn't have anything to cover it, and links their bare fingers together, holding on tightly. If it hurts, Minghao doesn't say it does; he doesn't pull away.

"You're a horrible person," Minghao tells him.

Soonyoung's heard the same thing enough times in his life to know when someone means it, and when they don't; Minghao -- he's never meant it, not even once.

"Love you too," says Soonyoung, sticking his tongue out.

He doesn't let go of Minghao's hand for the rest of the day.

 

 

2.

 

 

"This is a cellphone," says Soonyoung, holding up a phone. He watches Minghao repeat the word back, stumbling over the consonants, and picks up the other item in the box. "And this is a charger."

"Okay," says Minghao. He keeps looking at the items in Soonyoung's hand like it will suddenly reach out and bite him. "What do those do?"

"You use a cellphone to talk to people who are too far away," says Soonyoung. "And the charger is to keep it alive long enough for you to keep using it."

"But why don't you just use Floo powder to visit them?" Minghao asks, puzzled. He stifles a yawn even as he blinks blearily at Soonyoung, and he looks so sleepy-soft in his pajamas that Soonyoung has to dig his nails into the case of his phone to keep from touching him. Lessons first, cuddling later.

"We don't have a lot of fireplaces in Seoul," says Soonyoung. "This is easier."

He doesn't even bother bringing up the Muggle card, because _then_ Minghao will just scoff and go on about practicality and inconveniences and _then_ Soonyoung will get mad at him again and they won't speak for a week, tops. It's one of the things they're still struggling to come to terms with, and Soonyoung just wants to _not_ think about it before he starts stressing out.

Still, he knows Minghao's making an effort; it's the only reason Minghao's even picking up Muggle Studies this term, even if he's failing horribly at it. At least it's given them more excuses to hang out, even if it's under the guise of a terrible grade.

"Do you," says Minghao, only to hesitate over the words. He looks at the phone in Soonyoung's hand, and then up at Soonyoung's face. "Do you ever use it to call home?"

"Not really," says Soonyoung. Electronics don't really work out here -- Soonyoung has to go to London just to charge, and even then he really only uses his phone nowadays to call his family when they're waiting for him at the airport. It's been a while since he's really had anyone else to use it on, not after leaving that life behind.

It doesn't stop him from nagging his parents for the latest model whenever he goes back, though, and he tells Minghao as much. "The newer models, you can use it for video calls and stuff, and you have these cute apps that let you put stickers on your face--"

"I want to buy one," Minghao interrupts him. Soonyoung's brows knit together, confused.

"An app? Sure, but--"

"No," says Minghao. "I meant. I want to buy a phone. For later."

Soonyoung stares at him. Minghao's ears turn pink, even if he refuses to look even more cowed than he already does.

"What?" Minghao asks, voice rough. "What are you looking at me like that for?"

"I know you're rich and all, but do you think money grows on trees, young master?" Soonyoung asks. "Phones are expensive, you know."

"It doesn't matter," says Minghao. "The break's coming up soon." He looks down. "I just want to talk to you more."

Soonyoung thinks about the last holiday, when there'd been nothing but radio silence between the two of them even after Soonyoung's protracted confession at the train station, right before Minghao's train left. He thinks about all those weeks spent hiding under his comforter and wailing over k-dramas and black bean noodles with his older sister, thinks about how much he'd wanted nothing more than to talk to Minghao but didn't know how else to, not until school started again.

He thinks about how Minghao must have felt then, too. How he'd waited, and if he missed Soonyoung as much as Soonyoung missed him.

And then he thinks about how phone sex is a _thing_ , and he just smirks.

"Xu Minghao, are you propositioning me with sexting," says Soonyoung, delighted.

"I have no idea what that even means, but it doesn't sound good," says Minghao, flatly, watching him with wary eyes as he sets the box aside and scrambles over to Minghao's spot on the mattress.

"Trust me," says Soonyoung, climbing over his lap and grinding down until he can hear Minghao's stuttered gasp. "With the right person, it is."

They don't get a lot of learning done for the rest of the morning.

 

 

3.

 

 

"Where is he?"

There's a lot of times Soonyoung's heard that exact same line from a hundred other people in his lifetimes, all with varying levels of frustration and thinly-veiled scorn. This one, though -- it's not so much a question as it is a demand, and Soonyoung can already imagine Minghao's face puffed up in indignation, looking like an angry, pouting woodland creature even as his tone indicates that he wants nothing more than to castrate Soonyoung's balls and hex him to hell and back.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he hears Wonwoo say, even as Wonwoo not to look at the closet. Not for the first time, he's glad he has enough blackmail material on Wonwoo to last a lifetime, and if it means getting a free pass into the Ravenclaw quarters anyday, he's milking it for all its worth.

"I know he's in here somewhere," says Minghao. Soonyoung peeks out from his hiding spot and sees the back of Minghao's hair flicker from a dark, foreboding red to a lighter hue -- yeah, no, still mad. Of all the pranks Soonyoung's pulled on him, this is a little more on the practical side, shifting colors based on emotion, and Soonyoung can't _wait_ to see Minghao's face turn as pink as his cheeks do when Soonyoung sidles up to him and gets a little too close to be anything but innocent, lips brushing against the shell of his ear.

At least, _if_ he gets close enough to not get cursed. There's a reason Minghao's been the best at DADA in his grade for years, and Soonyoung doesn't want to be a guineau pig for that, thanks.

Still, he looks harmless like this, even with his hackles raised and his skin splotchy and red from too much feeling. _Cute_ , he thinks. _Cute, cute, cute, cutecutecute--_

"Why don't you ask Seokmin or Seungkwan?" Wonwoo says. "You know those three are always up to no good."

"He's still around," says Minghao, sounding sure of himself. He turns around with narrowed eyes, and Soonyoung almost stops breathing as he presses against the edge of the closet. "He can't stay away from the scene of the crime, that narcissist."

The red darkens into blue, foreboding; Minghao looks like he's trying to work out something in his mind, but isn't quite there yet. Soonyoung doesn't even need to look at the color of his hair to know, not when Minghao's already more expressive than he thinks he is. Soonyoung just wants to coo at him and kiss him all over -- after the anger subsides.

He gives it half a day, tops. Or maybe longer. Minghao can hold a grudge like no one's business, but Soonyoung's counting on his powers of persuasion to get through to him. And anyway, he can always make up for it with his mouth.

He fidgets, the skin under his shirt collar already feeling too stifling, hot. Probably not a good idea to think bad thoughts about your visibly upset boyfriend while trying to stay out of sight, if not out of mind. He should really stop thinking, period.

After what feels like forever of peering under furniture and skulking around like a displeased cat (even though Wonwoo assures him it's only been ten minutes, _really_ ), Minghao finally gives up and stalks out of the room, hair bleeding between red and orange; Wonwoo opens the closet door, and Soonyoung stumbles out of it unceremoniously with a squawk.

"Warn a guy next time, why don't you," Soonyoung complains, rubbing at the small of his back.

"Serves you right for putting me through that inquisition," says Wonwoo, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why are you going out with that snake again?"

"I like cold-blooded animals," says Soonyoung, primly. Wonwoo rolls his eyes. "Also, he looks really hot when he's mad."

"That does _not_ sound like a healthy relationship."

"You're just jealous," says Soonyoung. Wonwoo throws a flavored bean at him, and Soonyoung catches it with his mouth, only to spit it back out again. Earwax. Gross.

"Why are you hiding from your boyfriend anyway?" Wonwoo asks, even if he sounds like he really doesn't want to know. "You should have known what you were getting into when you spiked his shampoo bottle and faced the music."

"I'm not _hiding_ ," says Soonyoung. "I'm planning a strategic retreat."

"There are times when I have to remind myself that you're not from Slytherin, and today is one of those times," says Wonwoo, shaking his head as he crawls back under the covers of his bed, even if it's, like, eleven in the morning. "I feel sorry for him already."

"It's my pleasing personality, isn't it?" Soonyoung preens.

Wonwoo makes a face. "I hope he breaks up with you before you eat him alive."

"Too late," says Soonyoung. "I've got big plans for that one, too."

"Oh my god," says Wonwoo. " _Stop_."

Soonyoung blows him a kiss, and cackles.

"See you at Potions," he says. "Unless, of course, Minghao gets to me first."

"Trust me, it's not your life I worry about when he gets you alone," says Wonwoo, with a sigh.

"It'll be fine," says Soonyoung. "What's the worst that can happen?"

 

 

Soonyoung ends up apologizing, on his knees. Repeatedly.

Minghao's roommates are scarred for life.

 

 

4.

 

 

Soonyoung's roommates are party animals that use every victorious Quidditch match as an excuse to get drunk, and sometimes they don't have the strength to drag their asses back up the stairs and into their dorm after a rough night. It's times like this that Minghao sneaks into Soonyoung's room for the night, even if there's not much sleeping being done.

It's these that Soonyoung remembers most, even through the noise downstairs: the creak of the bedframe, impossibly loud in the hushed starts and stops of Minghao's name. The bruising grip of Minghao's fingers on his hips, lingering like a phantom ache for days after. The knotted tightness in his stomach, coiling and winding down until he spills into Minghao's hand, spent. How Minghao presses their foreheads together and breathes out his name like it's the only thing he knows how to say.

The morning after, just before Minghao has to slip back out into the darkened hallway and past the mess of bodies and alcohol in the common room, Soonyoung steals his scarf, striped green and silver at turns, and wraps his own around Minghao instead.

"There," says Soonyoung. "Now you look like a proper Gryffindor."

"Your housemates know me, idiot," says Minghao, even as his lips are quirked up into a smile. His thumb tugs at the base of the scarf, concealing a bruise Soonyoung had left on his collarbone with his mouth hours before. "You just want to steal my clothes."

"Well, it looks better on me anyway," says Soonyoung. "Don't you think so?"

Minghao's eyes glint with something sharp, dangerous, and Soonyoung shivers, but not from the cold.

"I like you better naked," says Minghao, and presses Soonyoung back down with a kiss.

 

 

5.

 

 

"Do you ever think about what you could have been, if you'd stayed in Seoul forever?"

Soonyoung's not going to lie: he's thought about it, time and again, when he was younger, when he missed home the most. He'd always been good with his body, but never the best at school. He could have been a teacher, maybe, or he could have danced. Maybe he would have been an idol hopeful -- his cousin had a friend who knew someone from an entertainment agency, and, well who knows? He could have been so many things instead of a wizard.

Right now, though, as he's waiting to board a flight back to South Korea with an antsy, sulking boyfriend on his side, he's not so sure. He wouldn't have had to deal with persuading Minghao to ride a plane just to meet his parents ("No teleporting, god, do you want to give them a heart attack? Great first impression, babe--") and he wouldn't have had to coax Minghao back to the world of rational thought and probability the minute he'd discovered the Internet and started muttering about all the insanely horrific things that could happen during the flight ("It's a metallic death trap and you wan't me to just take a sleeping pill and _chill_?"). He wouldn't need to worry about bringing home someone completely different from what his parents expect (magical inclination and gender aside), and he wouldn't have had to spend years trying to show Minghao how to properly function in the Muggle world without getting caught.

(And the dabbing. God. He regrets introducing Minghao to pop culture forever.)

He looks over at Minghao, who's curled up against the uncomfortable plastic seat while they're waiting for their delayed flight to let them board. He's in the softest hoodie Soonyoung has, and it had taken Soonyoung lots of time, nagging and blowjob to persuade him to keep his wand stowed away in his carry-on instead of held in a vice-grip at all times. Airport security won't be too happy with them if they see it, definitely.

He looks like he's had zero sleep in the past couple of days, but the bags under his eyes do nothing to keep Soonyoung's breath from catching in his throat. A part of Soonyoung wonders if it's normal, to not be immune to the butterflies in his stomach yet. If it will be like this forever.

It's a strange thought to have, that it couldn't have been like this if he'd stayed.He could have gone his whole life without meeting Minghao, and it wouldn't have been worth it, he thinks.

"Nah," says Soonyoung, tucking his head under Minghao's chin with a smug smile. "I really don't."

He doesn't regret it one bit, not even at all.


End file.
